Prottetori
by Malo919
Summary: The journey of your life is never taken alone. For Bilbo, this was true. It wasn't just him and the dwarves and Gandalf for that long adventure to Erebor. It was his childhood friends, with their own stories and history to fill the world with tales. Watch, and see how a few more hobbits can make all the difference you need. Rating may go up. Many OC/Dwarf romances.
1. Prologue 1

"Tricha! Stop! Let go of her!" He tried to struggle his way out of the Rangers' holds, but they were too strong and he too weak. He swore to himself right there to toughen up after this- as soon as he got his sister back.

"Relax, kid. Pretty thing's not gonna be hurt too bad. We'd take you, too, but don't reckon many people'll buy a little boy kid." It was obvious from the guard's expression and his slur that he was drunk. He threw himself away from them in time to see his sister disappear.  
He'd never see her again.  
_

The dirt and wood fell on him just as he stumbled out of the door way. His sibling's cries as their parents pulled them away from his still body echoed in his brain.

They thought he was dead. And... And they were just leaving him there.

He laid there for what was seemingly hours only for it to have been minutes. Not long later, he heard the sounds of sobbing. He searched around.

"Wh... Who's there?" he whispered in a barely-there voice. The sobbing abruptly stopped, and the feeling of the wood and dirt being pulled off his body was relieving. The person gasped when they saw him.

"What are you doing under there?"

"Taking a nap. What do you think happened? Had to get the kids out. Wh... Where are they?"

The person didn't speak for a minute. Then, in a choked voice, he said, "They're gone. They got crushed by all the snow and wood and dirt. You... You're the only one left. Aside from me and... my parents."

"What... Happened to them?" His voice was still slightly wheezy from all the weight. The voice was now bitter.

"They told me I had done this. It was my fault, they said, that I couldn't get the little ones out in time. They... They disowned me."

"I'm sorry. For everything." The man above him smiled sadly and dug his body out further.

They were inseparable from then on.  
_

He looked around, his eyes wide, the innocence in them not disappearing as he took in the mangled bodies of his childhood 'friends.'  
He'd never really liked them anyway. It was their fault he was like this, stuck as they'd wanted him to be.

It was so ironic.

When he spoke aloud, his voice sounded so different from how it used to be. More childish. And what he was saying wasn't what he was thinking.

"Where'd da big bad wolfies go?" he heard his own voice ask. A choked voice answered him.

"They've left for another kill," the hobbit beside him answered. He took the boy in. They were the last two survivors.

"Why do dey wanna kill thingies? Dat's mean." The hobbit chuckled.

"They don't think about things like that. They just want to eat. And we're apparently on the menu."

He desperately tried to actually be somewhat articulate, but it was no use. His genius was locked inside, only a childish way of explaining the complex things being available to him.

Other hobbits had lost family, or home, or even their lives. He thought he'd lost something worse.

His mind.  
_

"You know why I'm going to do this, right?" Tiche nodded, grim-faced for probably the first time in his life.

"I'll be waiting for you, My Knight. With many jokes." He raised the sword. At the last second, Tiche added in, "I've got forever to think of them, right?"

Of course he'd go out with a joke. A lame one at that.

The Knight looked down at his One, killed by his Mate. He'd just killed the only person left in the world who could make him laugh. Hell, the only person who could make him smile was gone.

He was suddenly aware of the orcs laughing in the background. He gripped the handle of his sword and shield tighter, his knuckled whitening, rage descending on his mind.

If he couldn't laugh anymore, neither could any of them.  
_

He stared. The red river ran past his feet as he numbly watched the life of his parents fade from their hearts, the light leave their eyes.

Their hands were outstretched in a peculiar triangle shape. One arm pointed to the other. The second was directed at their son, standing and living and breathing, but not really, because his legs felt ready to fall apart, his heart about to stop, and his breaths faltering and choking.  
He heard a whimper. He looked around suddenly, his attention abruptly turned from his morbid thoughts.

The little genius so many mocked for his intelligence and height, even among hobbits, who considered themselves some of the wisest, shortest creatures. They were wrong about the wise part, if they could do what he saw happened to the fawn-like hobbit and not even notice.

He later carried the little genius back to his house, cradling him in his arms almost desperately.

This was his last chance to protect someone from those beasts. He wasn't going to waste it.  
_

"Father," he muttered, suddenly terrified and grief-stricken, at a loss for words for the first time in his entire life. He rushed to the limp body of his father as quickly as he could, stumbling past the hobbit group he had been traveling with.  
They'd all known grief more than they needed. He had known that as soon as he'd seen their faces. All had lost something before he met them.

The little fawn-like one's eyes seemed so innocent, but also hid haunted shock and a glimmer of something suppressed. He remembered suddenly how he'd heard of a little prodigy hobbit being bullied by other hobbit's. The glimmer was most definitely knowledge now that he knew what to look for. But it was hidden by thick layers of childish wisdom adults should have but don't. The naive innocence he wished everyone could keep.

The one holding the ex-prodigy tightly's eyes glinted fiercely with protectiveness as he watched all of them. They'd only just met, but he treated them as if they were priceless possessions that needed to be guarded by only the finest.

Two others were clinging to each other in a desperate/romantic way, as if when they let go, the other would disappear in a puff of smoke. They talked to each other like strangers, but looked at each other like they were a newly unwrapped Yule present.

The foreign-looking hobbit (skin olive, hair midnight, eyes blue-green-gray) seemed emotionless, standing listlessly. But he could see the almost maddening amount of loss in his eyes, as though something oh so precious had been violently ripped from his arms right after he'd found it.

Another standing closer to himself was tense, and looking towards the woods and holding his weapon tightly, knuckles white, as though they were to be ambushed at any moment. He'd clearly lost someone to orcs or wolves. From the amount of pain in his eyes that he didn't even bother hiding, he assumed it was the hobbit's first One. That had to sting more than the loss of friends or parents, though maybe not siblings. They were always closer than friends, parents, or acquaintances.

The last one was the most casual, looking as if out on a picnic. But the panic in his eyes was almost tangible in the air, radiating around him crazily. His posture looked uncaring, but his expression was the exact opposite. Filled with empathy and knowledge and the exact same feeling he himself was filled with as he cradled his father's head in his chest.

For a minute, he just wanted to think maybe he had it worse than all of the others combined.


	2. Prologue 2

**Prologue The Second**

Most races in Middle Earth figured the hobbits were somewhat dainty, meek, polite things, well off, and most generally didn't think of them as a threat.

Most didn't know about the Protettori.

Way back during the Fell Winter, there was a group of hobbits that set out on their own to protect the hobbits in danger and give out food and offer the safety of their home. The leaders of Hobbiton quickly decided after the fact of the death toll that these protectors would be sufficient enough to handle any dangerous problems that arose in the Shire, though not many did arise.

The hobbits throughout the Shire and beyond decided this meant any and all problems, including needing temporary housing, foods for the younglings, and fixing their tools back up to scratch.

This group saw no problem with it, and openly welcomed anyone in need of help, not only in the Shire, but far, far out in the world.

The Protettori were named in the old hobbit language of the Latronum, from which all hobbits originated. The term meant 'Protectors,' when translated, quite obviously. But the Latronum were rarely spoken of in regular day-to-day conversations. No, the hobbits weren't afraid of their history, just what the other races would do if they discovered hobbits were actually burglars by nature.

That would ruin their innocent reputation for sure, and they wanted to stay under the radar for as long as they could. Which, in their books, meant forever.

But there was a slight problem. While the Protettori were respected by all, they were a bit... well, actually, they were all completely insane. Even the cute, innocent seeming one that everybody secretly adored and harbored feelings for.

For one thing, they played by the old rituals of the Latronum, which meant thieves in the old language. And this brought on every single other weird thing they did, from practicing with weapons to public affections with men.

It also meant they had to get tattoos stating their honors. The one called Elkai got a fawn for his innocent nature, and the one named Alexi picked an open book and quill. Garne had a mug of ale, and Ferri had a crown and jewels. Howli had a bloody dagger with several other weapons coated in blood surrounding it, which honestly disturbed all who saw it. Darmo had a full suit of knight armor carved into his arm, and Clarc had an Oxen from the days of old. Bilbo had chosen a broken lock with an old, rusted key split into many pieces. They weren't quite sure what this one meant.

Not to mention the Company (for that's really what they would be out of the Shire) rings they all wore, along with the matching earring- each in just the left ear. Ferri's was a sunshine-pumpkin colored mix, while Howli's was blood red. Elkai's was a sky blue, Bilbo's a jaded emerald green, and Alexi's a murky orange-red that would have looked like brown if it had mixed instead of swirled around in a spiral. Garne a brilliant wave of red and yellow, Darmo a simple piece of black pearl, and Clarc with a purple and white mix.

These all had supposed meanings corresponding with their tattoos, though no hobbits aside from the Gamgees knew what they really meant.

Yes, the Protettori were both respected, slightly feared, and altogether strange.

Who wasn't?


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: The Beginning of the Day**

He groaned as he found something obstructing his getting up from bed that morning. It seemed he'd either lost the movement in his limbs suddenly and with no reason, or Elkai was cuddling with him again. Against his will, he might add. The Fawn- Elkai's Protettori nickname- was a little cuddle monster.

Alexi peeked over the mass of blankets to see two wide pairs of eyes, a toffee sort of color, simply staring at him. He slammed his head back onto the blankets, instilling a fit of giggles in the hobbit on top of him.

"Elkai, get off! You aren't supposed to- Bilbo limited your cuddles per day! Stop-"

"Don' wanna!" Fawn whimpered, closing his arms- and the blankets- tighter around Alexi. "I _need_ cuddles!"

"No, no you don't!" he argued. "Fawn, you have a problem. A cuddle addiction. And Bilbo said you need to limit the... cuddliness intake, or else you'll explode from... fluffy cuddles." Fawn whimpered again.

"But... But then I won't get no more cuddles and I'll _die_!" Alexi sighed exasperatedly. It was hard to argue with Fawn about cuddles. Eventually, you'd just end up cuddling him back because he'd start crying, and no one wanted to see that. Or, if you actually separated Elkai from his chosen prey for cuddles... That was something Alexi never wanted to see again. If he could forget that experience, he would start praying to Aule over Malcata, which wouldn't happen to any members of the Protettori. They were strictly Latronum, thank you very much.

"Elkai, if you stop cuddling him, I'll let you sleep with your bunny rabbit all night tonight!" Bilbo's cojoling voice sounded throughout the bedroom.

Fawn squealed in happiness and ran to go tell his bunny rabbit the good news. He loved sleeping with that animal so much, if you threatened it, he would either burst into tears, give you anything you wanted, or threaten you. Usually, it was a combination of the first and last ones.

Alexi threw the blankets off him gratefully.

"Thanks, Thief. Fawn's a cuddle monster, I swear." Bilbo smirked.

"It's no trouble. But I think we're going to have to team up to get the rest of the Company up and about. Ale and Prince had a late night and Knight's having his nightmares that he doesn't want to admit exist. Not to mention Howli's disappeared and Clarc is still drunk." Thief sighed.

Bilbo's Company nickname was Thief, for his occupation. Like Alexi's nickname was Scribe, for his main job in the Company, Howli's was Dagger. All the others', however, were more about their personalities. For example: Elkai being Fawn, Darmo being Knight, Clarc was Ox, Garne's nickname was Ale, and Ferri's was Prince.

Alexi nodded to himself. "I'll take getting Clarc sober, and finding Howli. You handle Darmo, Ale, and Prince. Oh, and keep an eye on Elkai. Who knows who he's kidnapped to cuddle?" Bilbo nodded.

As it turned out, Elkai had told his bunny of their now-allowed cuddle night, then took Sir Fluffles (the bunny) to cuddle and comfort Darmo, who had relaxed at the odd purring sound in his ears (from Elkai) and was no longer having his nightmare.

Then, Howli reappeared from the basement where he'd been practicing his hunting skills. He always did that in dark, cold places that basically screeched 'there's no hope!' It gave him comfort.

Ale and Prince left their bed easily enough to cook breakfast and make out, though Bilbo had forbidden them from doing so at the same time (when they could be spotted easily at least).

Clarc was never that hard to sober up either. He simply looked Alexi in the eyes, shook his head like a dog, and was sober again. If it had been Garne, Alexi would have had to drown him in water for an hour, but luckily, Garne almost never got drunk, despite his uncanny ability to drink even most elves under the table.

After everyone was finally awake, sober, and gathered in their favorite dining room, breakfast started. It was a somewhat quiet affair, really. Garne and Ferri would eat all on their plates then start kissing and groping each other. Elkai would eat very little then feed the rest to Sir Fluffles. He was a very fat, hungry bunny, but Fawn thought that made him the best candidate for cuddler of the day. Darmo and Clarc would converse near silently at one end of the table about some meaningless thing or another, and Howli was found at the corner seat in the shadows, watching them all with fond, mother-doting-on-her-children eyes. Which only made the fact that he was sharpening several daggers worse. Alexi and Bilbo would talk aggravatingly loudly about something that didn't matter and was completely outrageous, just to rile the others up. It didn't usually work.

It was soon after first breakfast when the weirdest thing that could happen, happened.

Bilbo and Alexi were sitting on the front bench, smoking their pipes and talking quietly, jokingly, about how fine the weather was ("It has to be the brightest morning of my life!" "No, no, that was two weeks ago tomorrow from Wednesday." "Oh, yes! I remember that sunrise like I remember two minutes ago!"). Elkai was sitting in one of the flower garden beds, talking to the flowers solemnly to warn them about the winter coming, keeping a close eye on Sir Fluffles, who was munching on his choice carrot of the day not far off in the vegetable gardens. Darmo and Clarc were sitting in the shade under a tree, Darmo simply resting while Clarc drew more pictures of the Shire, all of what he could see. Howli was working on fixing a few of the tools the other hobbits of the Shire sent them when broken. Meanwhile, Garne and Ferri were off on a walk in the forest nearby the house.

An old man walked up the dirt path slowly, observing everything going on.


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Threats and Insults**

_An old man walked up the dirt path slowly, observing everything going on._

Alexi eyed the wizard warily, not even bothering to try to work up some more alliteration for it. He honestly did not like anyone coming over uninvited. So, he decided to let Scribe loose a bit and mess with the old man a little. He looked Bilbo in the eye and nodded.

"So would you like to see the painting I'm working on?" he asked in an overly loud voice. The wizard visibly froze, apparently not expecting that.

"Yes, I'd love to. Is it the one with Elkai in the main Shire gardens?" Bilbo replied, playing along in an even louder voice.

"No, it's the one of Howli in the dark corner with his knives."

"I see that every day. It's already a painting in my memory!"

"What?"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU! SPEAK UP!" Alexi shook his head exaggeratedly.

_"I THINK OUR EARS ARE CLOGGED BY THE DUSTODILS' POLLEN AGAIN! THERE'S THE ANTIDOTE IN THE HOUSE!"_

**"I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!"** Alexi sighed and cupped his lips with his hands and leaned close to Bilbo's ears.

_**"THERE'S A PROBLEM WITH OUR HEARING! I HAVE THE ANTIDOTE IN THE HOUSE! FOLLOW ME!"**_ Bilbo shook his head in mock-exasperation before following Alexi.

By this point, Gandalf was keeled over on the dirt path, covering his ears, right in front of the gate. Who knew hobbits had such a large lung capacity?

After a few minutes, the wizard stood cautiously. Maybe coming now was a bad idea... He turned to go and formulate a new plan of action, before nearly having a heart attack.

Howli stood in front of Gandalf with his arms crossed. Despite the large differences in height, Howli seemed even more intimidating than the all-powerful magician who thought he knew best. For one thing, he looked to be like a mini-dwarf, only very short and skinny. For another thing, his eyes were just too vibrant to look in for a prolonged amount of time. They were the color of pale moonlight, and glistened with an oddly violent gleam. Or maybe it wasn't so odd, considering it was Howli.

When the hobbit in front of him finally spoke, Gandalf was caught very off-guard.

"If you so much as think about entering that garden with any sort of intention unrelated to congratulating Clarc on his winning clothing designs, I will cut off your beard and give it to Elkai to use as a coat for Sir Fluffles in the winter. If there's anything left, no matter the length, I will strangle you with it. Then I'll remove all of your bones from your body without harming any of the organs inside, then take the organs out and feed the meat and skin of you to our personally trained wargs. Finally, I will build a coffin out of your bones, put your organs in them exactly as they would be laid out in a body, and send it down the Brandywine. That's not all. When it washes ashore, I will use whatever's inside as fertilizer for Hamfast's gardens next spring. Do you understand me?"

Shocked, the wizard simply nodded. Howli looked him over before shrugging disdainfully. Then he stalked off, his arms still crossed over his chest. Gandalf stared after him for a full five minutes without being able to think of anything.

Then he felt a tug at his gray robes. He was almost afraid to look down. When he did, he found the cute little face of Elkai smushed up in an adorable but fat bunny's fur, the sparkly blue eyes watching him from below.

Elkai held out the bunny with a pout and said, "Sir Fluffles said he wants to give you a hug and not me." He seemed incredibly upset at this.

"I... I'm not entirely sure that's a good idea," Gandalf said, thinking back on Howli's threats of his beard being Sir Fluffles' coat.

That turned out to be the wrong things to say.

Fury covered the cute hobbit's face, making it resemble how people would picture Yavanna scorned by her people. He straightened, and though it didn't make much of a difference to his height, Gandalf cringed.

"You dare to reject Sir Fluffles' cuddles?" Elkai demanded. He didn't sound like the baby hobbit he had before. Now he sounded more like the fifty-year-old hobbit he was. "You believe you're better than Sir Fluffles? He doesn't deserve your cuddles?" Elkai looked Gandalf up and down in disgust. "Shame on you, sir!" With that, tears filled Elkai's eyes and he pulled Sir Fluffles back to his chest. The bunny cuddled his face reassuringly. Elkai ran off, sobs trailing back to Gandalf.

Within an instant, the tips of swords and daggers of seven pissed off hobbits surrounded Gandalf on all sides.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**Strange Fauna and Flora:**

Dustodils- Flower known only to parts of the Shire. Shaped rather like a daffodil. It's a naturally silver color, though not shiny at all. It grows throughout all seasons. The stalk is high, and the flower is large. It's pollen is gray and comes out generously. The pollen is light and is picked up easily in the wind. It has a tendency to float into hobbits' ears and clog them for long periods of time. The sap from the Manyucure tree is the only thing strong enough to unclog them completely.

Manyucure Tree- Tree known to many places throughout Middle Earth, but considered useless. It's bark is coarse and thin, the leaves rough. But the sap inside is plentiful. It tastes delicious on many foods or in many drinks. It is a thin sap that comes in abundance from the inside of the tree, but it is very strong at corroding all types of dust, dandruff, or other things dirty. This is typically why it is used as furniture polish, flavoring, shampoo, or the only known antidote to dustodils pollen clogging the ears. These things are only known in the Shire, as they hate to waste anything. The wood burns easily, but for a long amount of time. But it also gets wet easily, and then becomes useless except for the sap and leaves. The leaves are used to sharpen pins and needles for sewing.


End file.
